Brink
by Songstone
Summary: When Itachi was a child, this man had made his life a living hell; he had been the cause of corruption in the young Uchiha's life. But now, as an adult, Itachi sits across the street from his house, spiritually broken and without anywhere else to go. -AU-


**Brink**

**This isn't supposed to be my Valentine's story, but I got stuck in the one I wanted to post. xD;; So...yeah. Have this instead. 8D Oh, and it's Mania crap. xD;; Sorry, I'm obsessed with it right now. If you haven't read Mania, you don't really need to worry. I think you can read this all right without it. xD**

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The one place that Itachi had vowed never to go back to was the exact place where he stood now. He was frozen, rooted to the earth, and shivering.

The sky had opened up a few minutes ago, sending icy droplets of water onto the ground below. Itachi just happened to be in the way when they fell.

How had it come to this? His life had gone to hell and back before, but this time it had gone to hell and stayed there.

Where could he go? Who could he possibly turn to _now_? He couldn't turn to his mother. He would hate to see that sweet woman so disappointed in him once seeing his sorry state in life just then. And his younger brother...Itachi wanted Sasuke to always see him as a pillar of strength to hang onto whenever he needed; he couldn't let his brother see him _now_.

Surely his friends hated him beyond belief; he couldn't go back to them. And Kisame? Tch. Itachi wouldn't find himself crawling back to that sorry sonova--

The Uchiha shook his head, his wet, black bangs sticking to his forehead as they fell back onto his face.

All of that was besides the point; the only point there was now was that shit had hit the fan and now he was _here_.

"God help me..." Itachi whispered as he stared across the street at the small, two-bedroom house with the blue trim. He was annoyed to find his voice quiet and shaky when he spoke; but with his mood and his sudden drop in body temperature, he found it hard to speak strongly.

The Uchiha slowly took a step off of the sidewalk, his foot sinking into a small collection of water that was leaking towards the sewage drain. He felt the water leak between his toes, and he shivered again.

Red eyes never once left the small house. Itachi was staring the building down like it might suddenly vanish if he let it out of his sight for even a mere second.

Lips quivering with cold, Itachi set his other foot onto the road.

A car whizzed by, a blinding white blur as far as Itachi could see, and he instinctively took a step back in surprise.

Itachi's heel hit the sidewalk that he had just stepped down from, and he stumbled; he tried to right his footing at the last minute, but all that did was make the actual impact of his tailbone to the pavement harder and quicker.

Blinding flashes of lightning danced across the darkened evening sky just then, and the earth shook with the feral growl of thunder as the wind and rain grew in strength. And so now Itachi remained seated on the edge of the road, awkwardly sprawled out as he was relentlessly pelted with more water.

The water was cold on Itachi's skin. But as the seconds, and eventually minutes, passed by, the water leaking down his cheeks became hot and thick. He tasted salt as he let his tongue flick out to briefly lick at his lips.

What had he sunk to? How was he allowing himself to sit here and actually shed tears? No. The question was simply; how was he allowing himself to sit _here_?

The house seemed to be leering at him now, as he stared up at it with bleary, watery eyes. It was mocking him.

He shouldn't be here. Itachi knew that he should get up and leave; he had promised himself that he would never come grovelling back here. After the hell he had been put through, he had promised to never set foot near this place again, nor see the person inside.

But where else could he go?

And then, surely as an act of sheer randomness, the door to the house with the blue trim opened. A faint yellow glow surrounded the figure of the owner of the house as he stepped out onto his porch, safely guarded from the falling rain by the overhanging roof. The light behind him gave him a deceivingly ethereal look.

Itachi swallowed hard, trying to maneuver around the lump in his throat. He didn't dare blink. He stared directly at the tall figure on the porch, wondering if he was being watched back and half of him hoping that he wasn't.

Another bright flash of lighting streaked across the sky, illuminating the street just then. It was the wrong moment. The timing was so horrid that Itachi might have laughed at his own bad luck had he not been dealing with it for weeks on end already.

The brief moment of illumination had given the man in the doorway enough time to take notice of Itachi's crumpled form, lying just across the street. Itachi knew that he was being looked at because having those eyes on him made his skin crawl. He shuddered once more, then slowly worked to push himself to his feet.

As the young Uchiha stood straight at last, the man in the doorway had shifted a bit off to the side and more into the shadows. He beckoned to Itachi with one hand, gesturing inside of his home.

The brunette took a deep breath through his nose, steadying himself a bit as he considered the silent invitation. He needed to get out of the rain; he needed a place to stay, as well, and this was his last resort.

He could always follow his instincts and refuse to go into the house, but where else would he go? No, Itachi decided that he had no other choice.

As the raven haired man took a couple of cautious steps out onto the open road, thunder cracked again, shaking the earth beneath his feet. Itachi took that as a bad omen, but he didn't heed the warning and continued to tread slowly across the road.

As he neared the opposite side of the street, Itachi felt his stomach churn as the all too familiar smell of burnt food and sake wafted out of the open house to greet him. He felt like gagging because of the stench, but he managed to swallow heavily and repress the urge.

Two steps leading up to the porch separated him and the owner of the house, and it was only there that Itachi paused. He was so close to the other male that he could hear his raspy, uneven breathing.

"What brings you?"

Itachi stiffened as he heard the other's voice; it had sent a jolt of white-hot loathing and fear straight through his spine. Amazing that after all these years, that voice still chilled the blood in Itachi's veins.

Clenching his jaw to prevent his teeth from chattering, Itachi slowly pushes out the words; "I need a place to stay." It hurts more than expected to utter those words. It feels like he's begging, even if his words and the delivery of them had given hint to nothing of the sort.

As the man slowly nods his head, what seems to be a taunting smirk slowly creeping onto his face, Itachi feels his heart sink a little bit lower. He suddenly feels so much hate that it's blinding for a moment. He hates this man, he hates this house, his friends, Kisame, and just about everyone else whom had crossed his path in the last three months. But lastly, and most of all, he felt a burning, undying hate towards himself.

Why had he ever let himself fall under this man's influence? Why had he let what had happened years and years ago effect him so much in his adult life? The fact that he had been following an example set by this person for nearly half of his life made Itachi's stomach churn; he hated that he had never tried harder to be different. He hated himself for never even putting full effort into _trying_ to make himself different.

"Come in." The man in front of him breathes; sake is strong on his breath as it travels towards Itachi and assaults his senses.

Itachi wants to refuse; he wants to turn and leave and never even think of coming back again. He feels like going _home_, running to his room where he can crawl under the covers, and just lie there, thinking about all that had transpired. He could cry there, too, if he so wished. And more often than not, his friends would be there to soothe him.

But Itachi couldn't go back. He had no where to go anymore. This was it.

_Take it or leave it, Uchiha._

Itachi was an expert at masking his emotions; he was so skilled at hiding signs that he was feeling sadness or anger that even Hidan and Deidara had had hard times figuring him out. So, with confidence that he wouldn't be able to be read so easily, Itachi lifted his chin and squared his shoulders, slowly stepping up onto the porch.

Hopefully, all of the fear, guilt, embarrassment and somber emotions that were bubbling and clawing at his insides weren't visible to the naked eye when Itachi muttered the two words that sealed his fate as he stepped into the dimly illuminated, stale smelling house.

"Thanks, dad."

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**WORST. VALENTINE'S STORY. EVER. D:**** Hopefully my _actual_ Valentine's story will be up in a while. A few days at most (LOL, BELATED MUCH?). 8'D**

**Oh, and actually, _this_ won't be happening in Mania at all. I just wrote it since I love Itachi's character in Mania and his background is interesting to write for. However, there are little details that might hint at other spoilers for the story if you squint and take a good guess. xD**

**So...you can go ahead and use your imagination about why Itachi is in the state he is and why he ended up where he did. I really didn't put much thought into it, so maybe you guys have a good reason. xD**

**Hope you enjoy the story! Please let me know what you thought! Oh, and feedback is always welcome since I want to improve, and if you have suggestions, I'm all ears. xD**

**HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!  
**


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